Oh, Lord, be with us at this blessed time, when we look back in the tranquility of Christmas upon another year of serving the donor class. Praise You for creating the great numbers of racist yick-a-doos whose votes we can count on even though we lift not a finger to actually do good for them. Thanks be to You for the dark money so plentiful that we stuff in our pockets until our fingers grow numb from the effort. Thank You for Your Bible, whose Holy Word we can invoke anytime annoying scientific types point out that our moneyed handlers are destroying the planet. And thank You for your son Jesus, whose Return we proclaim every time we need evangelical women to send us donations to help keep other women from getting abortions. And we thank You for not sending Him back quite yet, and we beg You not to do so, at least not while the economy is so cranking.
But thank You most of all for your prophet Donald Trump. He has shown us the Way, Oh Lord. His mendaciousness inspires us, his greed glorifies ours, his corruption makes our own invisible. He has drained the swamp, Oh Creator of All Things, while remaining best friends with Mitch McConnell, a miracle which makes the whole loaves-and-fishes thing pale by comparison. He makes us better Republicans in every way just by his example, whether he means to or not. And we’re thinking not.
And yet, Oh God, can it be that his time groweth near? Once we all swallow our pride, not to mention reason, and acquit him of the crimes he is manifestly guilty of, what will he do next?
We guess what we are telling You, Almighty One, is that we can take it from here. We want to go back to pretending we care about individual responsibility and fiscal conservatism, while managing the ignorant nativists, Nazis, gun fetishists and other assorted gullibles that keep us in power by dog-whistle.
We beseech You, Oh Highest One, to take Donald Trump to your side. Raise him up in glory, preferably before we have this impeachment trial during which the whole nation will watch us screw our eyes shut and stuff our fingers in our ears in order to find the guilty bastard innocent. Grant him the cheeseburger of doom, the heart attack while having sex with a whore, the coronary from an overdose of Adderall that You have inevitably fated for him, soon. New Year’s Eve would be good.
Let him lie in state in the Capitol, and we will weep hypocritically about how he sacrificed his life for his country, and we promise not to giggle until we get behind locked doors and get a couple of drinks in us.
Amen. The Republican Party.
But thank You most of all for your prophet Donald Trump. He has shown us the Way, Oh Lord. His mendaciousness inspires us, his greed glorifies ours, his corruption makes our own invisible. He has drained the swamp, Oh Creator of All Things, while remaining best friends with Mitch McConnell, a miracle which makes the whole loaves-and-fishes thing pale by comparison. He makes us better Republicans in every way just by his example, whether he means to or not. And we’re thinking not.
And yet, Oh God, can it be that his time groweth near? Once we all swallow our pride, not to mention reason, and acquit him of the crimes he is manifestly guilty of, what will he do next?
We guess what we are telling You, Almighty One, is that we can take it from here. We want to go back to pretending we care about individual responsibility and fiscal conservatism, while managing the ignorant nativists, Nazis, gun fetishists and other assorted gullibles that keep us in power by dog-whistle.
We beseech You, Oh Highest One, to take Donald Trump to your side. Raise him up in glory, preferably before we have this impeachment trial during which the whole nation will watch us screw our eyes shut and stuff our fingers in our ears in order to find the guilty bastard innocent. Grant him the cheeseburger of doom, the heart attack while having sex with a whore, the coronary from an overdose of Adderall that You have inevitably fated for him, soon. New Year’s Eve would be good.
Let him lie in state in the Capitol, and we will weep hypocritically about how he sacrificed his life for his country, and we promise not to giggle until we get behind locked doors and get a couple of drinks in us.
Amen. The Republican Party.
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